


The Ambassador's Son

by wbh



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodhi complains about prequel trilogy ships, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, minor mentions of other Rogue One and Clone Wars characters, some minor Jedi-bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 09:28:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12454446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wbh/pseuds/wbh
Summary: Bodhi finds unexpected companionship while shuttling delegates to Jedha for interplanetary negotiations.Takes place in an AU where the Republic allowed the Separatists to break away, the Clone Wars never happened, and Anakin realized living honestly was more important than remaining in the Jedi Order.





	The Ambassador's Son

**Author's Note:**

> Was wondering how these characters might interact in a timeline where they were both alive and not terribly traumatized. Bodhi and Luke are both around the ages they are in Rogue One/A New Hope.
> 
> My characterization of Anakin is based largely on how he's portrayed in The Clone Wars, not the prequel trilogy.

Bodhi drummed his fingers against the dashboard of the disgrace of a starship he was stuck piloting for the foreseeable future. It was a J-Type 327 Nubian, and it was old, and it rattled, and the hyperdrive had cut out on him three out of the last seven jumps. The most recent time, he’d climbed down into the rear of the ship, shoved the engineer he’d been forced to fly with for these runs out of the way, and kicked at the hyperdriver motivator in frustration until, to his honest surprise, the faulty equipment had powered back up and finally completed the jump. 

Bodhi rubbed at his left shoulder at the memory, still sore from where he’d been thrown against a bulkhead. The upside was that the engineer, Melshi, now thought Bodhi was some kind of genius. The downside was the hyperdrive wasn’t really in any better shape than it had been before he applied percussive maintenance. 

The Nubian was a Naboo-made vessel, a series that had been decommissioned decades ago. Bodhi glanced out the window of the cockpit he was sitting in at that very planet, where he was currently docked, wondering if they made any better ships these days. His runs to Naboo were the reason for this whole sorry mess with the Nubian in the first place. The Council of the Whills, back in the Kyber Temple on Jedha, had insisted that proper respect be shown to the Naboo delegation when they were transported to Jedha City for a series of negotiations. Bodhi didn’t quite understand all the details; some kind of territory dispute in the outer-rim, between Naboo and Fest, that couldn’t be solved in the Republican Senate because, well, Fest was no longer part of the Galactic Republic. A war had been averted years ago, before Bodhi was born, when the Republic had allowed the Separatist worlds to break away, to be sure, but it had complicated interplanetary negotiations, and led directly to the frankly annoying situation Bodhi found himself in. 

Because, yes, the Council had insisted that if Jedha, as a neutral world, was to play host to the negotiations, then all of the delegates would be afforded the same respect. And, because Jedhans were often both stubborn and overzealous (traits Bodhi grudgingly had to admit he himself displayed at times), that respect had for some reason included Jedhan-provided transport for each delegation in ships from their own worlds. Bodhi would have been more than happy to transport Ambassador Amidala and her associates in his own ship, a heavily modified Corellian light freighter (a ship which he never should have been able to afford, but had won in a very odd game of sabacc a few years prior), but that had apparently been out of the question. So they’d somehow dug up this relic of a Nubian, and Bodhi was paying the price. When Bodhi had first expressed dismay at the idea, Councilman Malbus, a suspicious twinkle in his eye, had told Bodhi he thought it would “do him good” to step outside of his comfort zone and deal with the challenges of flying an antique. Bodhi thought maybe it was time to find other employment than as an officially retained pilot for the Temple of the Whills.

Bodhi straightened up in the jumpseat as he finally spotted the ambassador and her entourage making their way toward his landing platform. It was not like her to be delayed, and so the near hour he had waited at the spaceport had puzzled rather than annoyed him. He hoped the fact that her delegation seemed nearly double its usual size was not a bad sign for the negotiations. Padmé Amidala was kind, and always made a point to talk with him during the runs, so he knew that she considered Ambassador Andor of Fest to be “young, but with a good head on his shoulders” and “far more reasonable to deal with than other representatives of the former Separatist Alliance.” Bodhi was also certain Amidala was downplaying some of her frustrations, however, as Cassian Andor of Fest had apparently not been willing to give up ground easily, and had dragged the negotiations on for far more sessions than had initially been planned. This was Bodhi’s eighth time collecting Amidala from Naboo, and he hoped they’d reach an agreement soon, if only so he could send this blasted ship off to the junkyard himself.

Once Bodhi spotted the delegation, he made his way down to the loading ramp to greet the Ambassador properly, as he was trained to do as a respectful Jedhan pilot, and as he had done the last seven times he’d flown to Naboo. A good transport captain set his passengers at ease by letting them see his face. If they knew what he looked like, they’d be more likely to trust him and less likely to ask stupid questions if the engines cut out on him or he had to take a detour to avoid smuggler activity.

Bodhi waited at the bottom of the ramp, resisting the urge to lean against the support struts, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the approaching group of passengers, trying to guess who the additions to the usual team were. He saw the ambassador herself, of course, wearing the kind of intricate and expensive looking gown he’d grown familiar with, as well as her assistant, Sabé, and the deputy ambassador, a young man called Pol. Besides a few rotating retainers in charge of the luggage, that was usually it, but this time they were accompanied by three new people Bodhi had never seen before. A very tall man was walking directly beside Amidala, bent over slightly to hold what looked like a deep conversation with her, and trailing behind them were two young people, maybe a little younger than Bodhi, a boy and a girl, who were having what looked to be some kind of good-natured argument.

As they approached, Bodhi could better make out their features. The girl was shaking her head, apparently exasperated by the boy’s enthusiasm, as he windmilled his arms in excitement and then, to Bodhi’s great confusion, gestured toward the Nubian. Bodhi glanced back at his own ship, puzzled. As far as he could see, there was nothing at all exciting about the bucket of bolts, but to each their own.

Ambassador Amidala greeted Bodhi warmly when the delegation finally arrived at the ship, grabbing his hand in the Naboo fashion while he responded by bowing the Jedhan way.

“Captain Rook! It is good to see you again,” she said, once he had straightened. “I do hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long. There was a...last minute addition to our agenda.” At that, she glanced sideways at the tall and stately-looking man beside her, and then back at the two younger strangers.

“Not at all,” Bodhi replied, light and professional, struggling to keep his curiosity at bay. He was about to suggest they get under way when Amidala interrupted him unexpectedly. 

“It seems my husband just cannot wait any longer to visit the Temple of the Whills, to make sure our children are properly exposed to all different schools of thought in their Force education,” she explained, although Bodhi hadn’t asked her to. She always was considerate. She turned to address the tall man, apparently her husband. “Anakin, this is Captain Bodhi Rook, and I promise you he’s an excellent pilot and will get us to Jedha with time to spare. So don’t hassle him.” 

“I don’t _hassle_ pilots,” Anakin grumbled, crossing his arms. “A lot of pilots I meet just happen to benefit from my advice.”

Amidala shook her head fondly. “I hope it won’t be a problem, Captain,” she continued, addressing Bodhi again. “It’s just that I apparently made a promise for a family trip to the temple several months ago, and, well…some of us have been forgetting to practice patience in the face of Ambassador Andor’s rather formidable negotiation tactics.” 

“He’s really the one to blame if there’s not enough cabin space on this trip and we have to double up,” Anakin added, transferring his teasing tone over to Bodhi.

Bodhi’s eyes widened. He’d never been comfortable with overt familiarity from people he’d just met. Professional, keep it professional. Professional was easy. He smiled politely.

Anakin Skywalker’s reputation preceded him. Bodhi had lived around and worked for the Temple on Jedha long enough to know about the man who’d left the Jedi order to start a family. The Guardians considered him an inspiration, a model for breaking away from the Jedi Temple on Coruscant’s monopoly on how to have a relationship to the Force. It made sense he’d want to take his children there, who, rumor had it, were as powerful with the Force as the man himself. Bodhi wondered how much the Jedi still wanted to get their hands on the young man and woman standing just a few feet from him. They were clearly adults, and seemed a bit old to his eyes to be taken on an educational trip with their parents, but maybe they did things differently on Naboo.

“We might be a bit cramped, but we should all fit,” he responded politely. Good, yes, he could do this. His anxiety calmed a bit as he laced his fingers together behind his back, falling into the familiar rhythm of accommodating passengers. “Just one extra cabin needed, if your husband stays with you, ambassador?” 

“Ohh no,” the young man standing behind Amidala and Skywalker suddenly chimed in, a small grin on his face in contrast to his dire pronouncement. “If Leia has to share a cabin with me all the way to Jedha, I think she might kill me.”

Leia rolled her eyes, but didn’t contradict him. “There’s only so much a person can listen to talk about engine harmonics, and you passed my limit fifteen minutes ago,” she told her brother, swatting him gently on the shoulder.

“I’m Luke, by the way,” he said, ignoring her and startling Bodhi, who suddenly found himself on the receiving end of yet another Naboo hand exchange. He bowed back, and tried to calm his resurgent nerves and remind himself that this was a really bad time to notice that Luke was only a little bit younger than him, and had very, very pretty eyes.

Bodhi stalled out a bit, trying frantically to come up with some solution of the shortage of sleeping cabins in the Nubian, when Amidala brushed past him. “Oh, don’t worry about Luke, Captain Rook, he’d sleep in the engine room if someone was foolish enough to let him, I’m sure it won’t be a problem. You just worry about getting us under way. I don’t want Andor finding any excuse to claim disrespect and push for more concessions because I’ve arrived too late.”

Bodhi stayed at the bottom of the ramp trying to regain his social equilibrium as the small group of passengers trooped past him. Leia had already buried her head in a datapad, but Luke gave him a small smile as he walked by. Bodhi was the last one to enter his own ship, and he raced back up to the cockpit, trying to figure out what had just happened and if other people had as much difficulty corralling that powerful family as he had. 

***** 

Bodhi finished running his sixth computer diagnostic of the trip, determined things were probably as good as they were going to get, and leaned back in the jumpseat, propping his feet up on the console. The blue vortex of hyperspace swirled in front of the ship, casting an eerie glow into the cockpit. He’d managed to find a hyperspace route that made up any time they’d lost waiting on Naboo, and was sure he could get Ambassador Amidala to the meeting with time to spare. He allowed himself a small smile. The ship may be a disaster, but he was good at his job. 

It was quiet now, all his passengers asleep (he had no clue where Luke had ended up, but no one had bothered him about it), Melshi far away down in engineering, and nothing but himself and the peace and quiet of a long jump to fill the next few — 

A loud knocking at the back of the cockpit jolted Bodhi out of his own head, and he jumped, his boots falling heavily back to the floor as he whirled around in his chair to find the source of the noise. 

In the doorway of the small cockpit, looking very sheepish, stood Luke (Amidala? Skywalker? Bodhi realized he didn’t know). 

“Sorry,” Luke said, grimacing. “I hope I’m not bothering you.” 

“No, no, it’s all right,” Bodhi replied, trying not to sound flustered. He’d always been easily startled, and easily embarrassed by it. He schooled his expression, hoping neither thing showed. “Your mother seemed to think it more likely you’d bother the engineer.” He said, boldly, before he could overthink it.

He was rewarded with Luke’s chuckle, “Yeah, well, that guy, Melshi? He kicked me out pretty quickly. Said if I was going to be a nuisance I should go bug the ‘pretty boy captain.’”

Bodhi’s eyes widened. Luke seemed to realize, and turned very red. “Not that, uh, that’s what I’m doing, I just...I like ships, can’t seem to help myself from trying to get a look at everything about them.”

“Well, you’re welcome to poke around here, I doubt you could make anything worse,” Bodhi said, surprising himself, and he gestured for Luke to take the co-pilot’s seat. He normally liked being alone on a long jump, but he already felt Luke was easy to be around, for whatever reason, and Bodhi figured socializing more probably wouldn’t hurt him. “I hope this is the last trip I’ll have to make in this scrap-heap anyway, so if you can encourage your mother to try to wrap up the negotiations this time, I’d appreciate it,” he added lightly, looking out into hyperspace and avoiding Luke’s eyes as he sat down next to him. 

“Wait, this isn’t your ship?” Luke asked 

Bodhi shook his head.

“Oh, what a relief!” Luke said, barking out a laugh. He stiffened. “Uh, I mean -”

“Don’t worry, feel free to insult this ship as much as you want,” Bodhi said, a smile creeping onto his face. At least Luke actually knew ships, to have picked up on how awful this one was so quickly. Its shiny exterior and cushy passenger cabins usually blinded people to its many, many flaws. “I know I certainly have.”

“Why are you even flying it?” Luke asked, puzzled.

Bodhi sighed. “One of the Guardians got it into his head that it would be more respectful if Jedha could provide transportation for the ambassadors with ships from their homeworlds. This was the only Naboo-made ship we could find. Personally I think Councilor Îmwe concocted the whole thing as an elaborate practical joke on me.”

Luke laughed at that, but Bodhi hadn’t really been kidding. Chirrut always seemed entirely too amused when he and Baze came upon Bodhi in the maintenance bay working on the Nubian, grumbling and kicking things.

“So this is what you do? Fly transports for the temple?” Luke asked, curious.

Bodhi nodded. “Yeah, sometimes passengers, sometimes cargo. Almost always in my _own_ ship, which I take much more pride in than this rust bucket. Are you a pilot?” He asked, emboldened by Luke’s easy-going manner.

“All my life,” Luke replied, smiling. “My father can fly anything, so he wanted to make sure we could too. Luckily for him I’ve got the knack for it. Leia...she can fly, and she’s not bad at it, but it’s not exactly her favorite pastime.” Luke paused. “I’ll have to let him know this isn’t really your ship, I think he’s been judging you for months now.”

It was Bodhi’s turn to laugh. “I’d appreciate that,” he said.  

They sat in pleasant silence for a few minutes, Luke fiddling with the Nubian’s control panel and Bodhi wondering what Luke found so fascinating about it. Bodhi was itching to run a seventh systems diagnostic, but knew it wouldn’t do any good, and so tried to force himself to relax. He propped his feet up on the console again and sighed, enjoying the hypnotic and swirling view of hyperspace.

“So,” Luke finally broke the silence. “What’s the Temple of the Whills like?” He was trying to sound casual, but Bodhi was suddenly certain this was what Luke had come up to the cockpit to talk about in the first place.

Bodhi shrugged. “You mean spiritually, or as a place of employment? I don’t go in for the religion stuff much, myself, but the Guardians are nice enough. Spend a lot of time praying.”

Luke nodded and hummed noncommittally. Bodhi was sure he hadn’t really answered his question. “It’s just…” Luke started and then trailed off. He turned in his chair to face Bodhi. “My father’s tried to show me the way of the Force, his way, but there are these Jedi that visit sometimes and try to get me and Leia to follow them back to Coruscant. That, uh, doesn’t go over well. With either of my parents, to be honest.” Bodhi opened his mouth to respond, but Luke plowed ahead. “It’s not that I don’t like training with him and Ahsoka, they’re great, and I get that my father wants me to find my own way with the Force, but how am I supposed to do that if they won’t even let me know anything about the Jedi? What makes the Guardians so different that we’re going to _study_ in their temple?” Luke flushed with embarrassment suddenly, as if finally realizing he was dumping all his problems on a virtual stranger.

Still. Bodhi cleared his throat. “I might be able to help a bit with that. The Guardians don’t like the Jedi much either. Say they limit their use of the Force, and shut out important parts of themselves because of some dogma about dark and light. The Guardians think the Force is in every part of a person, particularly a Force-user. That’s why they like your father so much—he’s more their speed, thinks of the Force as, well...grey, for lack of a better word.” Bodhi broke off. “Who’s Ahsoka?”

“She broke away from the Jedi order with my dad. Apparently the master/teacher bond was stronger than the Jedi Council’s threats of exile.”

Bodhi smiled softly. “The Guardians must have loved that. Bet they hope she won’t be the last.”

Luke hesitated. “The Guardians know my father, then?”

“You might want to brace yourself for the fact that a lot of people do, Luke,” Bodhi said, not unkindly. “What he did was kind of unprecedented. You’re sort of famous too, although no one really knows your name.”

Luke sighed heavily, slumping back in his chair looking put-upon and very young. “They can pay attention to Leia for all I care. She’s the one who’s always wanting to go out and do things, make a difference. I don’t even know if I want to dedicate my life to the Force. All I’ve ever really wanted to do was— “ he gestured out the viewport at the expanse of hyperspace.  

 _Fly_.

Bodhi understood that. He’d wanted to fly so badly he’d left his home behind. And he hadn’t regretted it, even though he’d returned under bad circumstances and was now stuck shuttling diplomats for the temple. 

“Maybe that’s the point of going to the temple,” Bodhi suggested, trying to be optimistic. “Figure out who you want to be. Nothing wrong with flying, I’m sure the Guardians will agree.”

“Well, you _would_ say that,” Luke replied, but the small smile had returned to his face.

Luke ended up falling asleep in the copilot’s chair, head tilted back and feet propped up on the console. Bodhi didn’t see the point in waking him. It was as good a place for Luke to sleep as any.

*****

When they finally landed on Jedha, Bodhi saw the delegation off at the spaceport and accepted Ambassador Amidala’s thanks for the swift and safe journey. He saw Luke only briefly. He was deep in conversation with his father, but waved at Bodhi when they all departed in the direction of the Kyber Temple. Bodhi waved back, but sighed. Ambassador Amidala’s family might not return to Naboo on the same transport they arrived on, so it was very likely he’d never see Luke again. Shame. He was nice. And easy to talk to.

After running an extensive maintenance check on the Nubian (which took far longer than he wanted it to, because somehow half the power converters in the port engine had started shorting, he’s not even sure how he landed the ship), Bodhi made his way to the dock where _his_ ship sat, in all its aesthetically unpleasing, but non-Nubian, well-engineered glory. Finding nothing wrong after a quick diagnostic, he headed toward the Kyber Temple himself. He wasn’t terribly eager to report in, but he’d stalled enough and couldn’t put it off any longer.

On his way there, winding through the narrow streets of Jedha City past shops and tapcafes, Bodhi almost didn’t notice the highly unusual sight in the east end of the market district. He slowed, did a double-take and...yes, there he was. Luke from Naboo, sticking out among the locals with his pale skin, blonde hair, and bright shirt, looking uncomfortable at an outdoor tapcafe and very much not studying at the Temple like he was supposed to be.

Bodhi hesitated but supposed he’d risk the disapproval of Councilors Malbus and Îmwe just this once. They were the ones always saying he needed to take more risks, have more adventures in life. He wound his way through the outdoor cafe’s haphazardly placed tables until he was standing over Luke. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Luke jumped. “Bodhi!” he exclaimed. “The, uh, the Guardians didn’t send you, did they?”

Bodhi shook his head. “I just finished maintenance on that scrap pile of a ship. Let me guess: you’re skipping out on something very important, like two hours of intense meditation?”

Luke flushed, looking sheepish. “Leia seemed really enthusiastic, and I figured they didn’t need both of us. And I mean, why should I just sit there when there’s a whole new city to explore?” He gestured around excitedly at the very ordinary city street.

Bodhi motioned to the chair across from Luke. “Mind if I join you then? I’m not bad at hiding from the Guardians myself. I can give you pointers.” 

“Oh, yes, of course!” Luke said eagerly. “Maybe you could show me around the city, uh, if you want to.”

“We’ll see how much time I have,” Bodhi hedged, before grabbing a nearby waiter and ordering chai for their table. Luke didn’t have anything in front of him, and seemed to have been unsure what the local offerings were. Jedhan tapcafes didn’t have menus.

“So, um, did you grow up here?” asked Luke.

Bodhi nodded. “Yup. Lived here until I left for the Republic Academy.”

“You went to flight school at the Republic Academy?!” Luke sounded more impressed than Bodhi really thought he should. “You could’ve had your pick of flight commissions, why…” he trailed off, as if suddenly realizing he was being rude.

Bodhi understood though. “I hadn’t planned to come back.” He hesitated. He’d only really ever talked about this with the Guardians, but Luke...Luke was kind, and open, and he’d already shared a lot of his problems with Bodhi. “I came back a few years ago, and took the job at the Temple so I could take care of my mother. She got sick rather suddenly, and then...well, she’s with the Force now, Chirrut would say.” Luke opened his mouth like he was going to say he was sorry or something, which Bodhi had heard enough of to last a lifetime, so he plowed ahead. “But I don’t really know what to do with myself now. This isn’t a bad job, not really, but it’s not really what I pictured for myself. Trouble is, I can’t figure out what I _do_ want to do now, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Luke replied quietly, and Bodhi realized that he did, sort of. “If your other ship’s as good as you say it is, you could always try piracy.” Luke added, clearly attempting to lighten the mood. 

Bodhi hesitated. It wasn’t often he got along with someone so quickly, or that that someone was strikingly handsome and pleasant and interested in ships… “Do you want to see it?” he asked. Luke grinned. 

*****

“You did _not_ win this in a sabacc game,” Luke protested, gesturing toward Bodhi’s Corellian freighter.

“Cross my heart! The fellow who lost it was pretty upset too, but we were gambling in a fairly legitimate establishment for once, and they made him honor the bet,” Bodhi explained further, privately agreeing it didn’t sound true and admitting to himself it was one of the weirder things that had ever happened to him.

“What’s it called?” Luke asked, circling the starboard side of the ship and admiring the armament enhancements.

“Previous owner called it the _Millennium Falcon_ but I dunno about that,” Bodhi answered. “Still not sure it...feels right.” 

Luke hummed in acknowledgement and then followed Bodhi up the ramp and inside. Bodhi turned to look at Luke’s curious face, admired the sharp lines of his jaw, starkly relieved in the low lighting of the freighter’s corridors. Was he imagining it, or was Luke walking closer to him than was strictly necessary?

Bodhi licked his lips and swallowed. “Would you like to, uh, take her out for a spin?”

Luke immediately brightened, but then said, nervously, “We won’t leave the planet, will we? I think my mother would actually kill me.”

Bodhi laughed. He couldn’t imagine having Ambassador Amidala for a mother. “Strictly planetside, it’ll be like a joyride. Well? I’ll let you fly some of the run.”

“Really?” Luke sped up after him into the cockpit, all fears of parental disapproval shoved aside.

“Really,” Bodhi answered, smiling at him as they settled into their seats. His anxiety prompted him to add: “Although I reserve the right to take control back if you’re not as much of a hotshot pilot as you think you are.”

Luke nodded like that made perfect sense. Good, yes. He understood boundaries and didn’t think Bodhi was overly protective. “Just don’t slam on the airbreaks every time I accelerate like my old speeder instructor, and it’ll be great!” Ok, well, maybe not. Still, Luke looked bright and happy, lighter than Bodhi’d seen him so far, as he placed his hands on the controls.

Bodhi toggled his comms, calling the control tower. “This is Rook in docking bay three, I’m just taking her out—“

“To maintain optimal engine performance since it’s not in regular use, yeah, yeah, just do your thing Rook, I swear you spoil that ship more than some people spoil their—”

Bodhi shut the comms off quickly, face flushing with embarrassment. But a quick glance to his right showed Luke was looking at him fondly, and then Bodhi felt warm for a very different reason.

They soared low over Jedha, exploring the ruins out near the caves of Cadera and flying lower than was really optimal for a freighter like this. Bodhi found he didn’t care. He was too busy looking at Luke, who seemed like he’d shed several heavy weights and had a delighted twinkle in his eye as he banked the ship hard around rock formations or raced it through desert canyons. Bodhi hadn’t known him very long at all, to be sure, but this was his favorite version of Luke, and he thought it was probably Luke’s favorite version of himself. He reminded Bodhi of what he’d first felt, flying without restrictions, just himself, and his ship, and open space and odd jobs, before family and duty had compelled him to return home. Maybe he could do _that_ again, he thought, could recapture in himself the same look Luke had on his face now, of absolute freedom and delight. 

Bodhi took control back and landed them on a mesa just outside the city, while Luke looked at him curiously. “There will be a great view of the sunset from here. We’ll go back after,” he explained, after powering the engines down and double-checking all the landing protocols had been executed correctly. “I can’t promise the Guardians won’t yell at you for missing evening meditation as well, but I hope this was worth it?” 

“Definitely,” Luke said earnestly, turning toward Bodhi and leaning in even closer, their knees bumping together in the small space of the cockpit. “This is the best time I’ve had in ages. Thank you, Bodhi. I think I needed this. There’s nothing like flying just for the hell of it, is there?”

“You should do this,” Bodhi blurted out suddenly, wincing at his own enthusiasm before doubling down and continuing. “You—you _like_ flying, I can tell, you made me remember how much _I_ like it, just the simple things, and, and, who _cares_ if you’ve got some special Force powers, you don’t have to use them, who cares what people think?” Bodhi’s eyes widened, alarmed at his own boldness, but Luke was smiling.

“Can I let you in on a secret?” Luke asked, leaning in even closer. Bodhi nodded. “I’m awful at the Force stuff. Can’t even lift a rock yet. Leia’s the one who’s great at it. I mean, could be because I never practice. I’d rather be…” he gestured to the control console, and Bodhi understood him perfectly.

“Yeah,” Bodhi agreed, his brain shorting out, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say while Luke was so close and his eyes were so blue and there was a gorgeous sunset over Jedha City just behind his head.

“Bodhi?” Luke asked, gently, inches away from his face.

“Hmm?” Bodhi replied.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh yes. Yes please.” 

Luke smiled, radiant, and then there were soft, gentle lips on Bodhi’s own, and Luke’s hands in his hair, and Bodhi melted into the contact and tried very, very hard not to worry about what Ambassador Amidala would say if she found out he was corrupting her son.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist giving Bodhi the Millennium Falcon. It's an alternate timeline, Lando made a bad bet with a different person, just go with it.
> 
> This ended up kind of self-indulgent and longer than I had planned on it being, thanks for reading!


End file.
